


The Man The Myth The Legend

by fazcinatingreads



Category: Kidnapping - Fandom, aussie rules football - Fandom, jack watts - Fandom, port adelaide football club
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-09-30
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 2,916
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26418115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fazcinatingreads/pseuds/fazcinatingreads
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

It was a beautiful sunny day in Adelaide. The grass had been mowed and the old scoreboard was shining in the sun. Adelaide Oval had never looked prettier, as the patrons lined up 1.5 metres away from each other to get into the stadium. There was a buzz in the air, Port Adelaide supporters were out in droves, talking and laughing excitedly about the 2020 season. On the trains and buses arriving at the oval, a few Essendon fans were sprinkled between the grey and teal surrounding them. The Essendon fans were glum, they hated football in September and this year was no different. 

As the fans streamed into their allocated seats in their respective groups, one man was walking briskly away from the seating, away from the food outlets and the toilets. His mask securely covering his mouth and nose, he weaved through people to the elevators and jumped into an empty one. He pressed the down button and waited as the elevator plummeted to the depths of the oval. Once there, he strode out and walked through scaffolding and bits of rubble until he arrived at the panels and levers linked to the old scoreboard. Rats scurried around his feet as he flicked the on switch for an old TV with a fuzzy picture. It wasn't necessary, but allowed him to watch the game and almost feel a part of it.

The man perched on a sturdy bit of concrete jutting out from the wall and waited. 

He could hear muted sounds from the crowd and the game, umpires whistles every now and then, but not much else. Every time a goal or behind was kicked, the goal umpire would buzz through his earpiece with the information and he would update the scoreboard accordingly. 

There was a lot to think about as he did this job, just like when he mowed the lawn and shined the scoreboard earlier. David Koch was nice enough to let him have this job, after he was found trapped in Ken Hinkley's basement with tape around his mouth. That was the worst 45 days of his life. He doesn't even know if Ken knew he was in there. No one knew. It was the cash cow that sniffed him out. That night Ken invited the cash cow over for dinner, and after their roast lamb and blueberry pie, the cash cow stumbled outside for the bathroom and smelt his festering unwashed body through a small crack in the bottom of the house. 

It was 45 long days under the house of the Port Adelaide coach, put there by crazed meth dealers with bags over their faces, and his football team had forgotten he existed. Since being rescued, only Kochie and the cash cow checked in on him, making sure he was okay from the horrible traumatic experience. He still attends trainings and practice matches but his coaches and teammates just ignore him, acting as if he's a ghost. But one day. One day he'll get back to what he once was. He'll regain the status he once had and the reputation of being the number 1 ranked 18 year old in the year 2008. He'll show them. He'll make sure of it.

The world will remember the name Jack Watts.


	2. Chapter 2

Jack Watts tied his shoelaces and then combed his hair in front of the mirror. Looking at his reflection in the mirror, he took a deep breath and muttered a few words to himself. "Go get 'em," he mouthed, "You can do this." He turned away from the mirror and followed the other boys onto the training track. They were all chatting amongst themselves, all hyped up, and none gave him a second glance. Jack steeled himself and did the warm up lap at the back of the pack. It was a big game this week, the team were flying to Queensland next Monday for the Monday Night Football. It was against Collingwood. Jack loved playing against Collingwood. He needed to be on that plane come Monday. He had to be. He'll do anything.

  
As he jogged behind the boys and waved to a couple of fans watching on behind the security fence (they just looked at him blankly like "who's this bloke?"), he reminisced his favourite game of his career against Collingwood. When he kicked the winning goal, the icing on the cake, and gave the finger to the collingwood cheersquad. What a game. That mob had been giving him shit all game, well actually for years, ever since his debut game where he was gang tackled by three magpies. Or something. He could barely remember it, he'd repressed that memory so much that it was basically a blur.

  
He saw more fans peering in through the mesh fencing, wearing black and white prison bar outfits. Ugh. One thing he hated about Port, their obsession with being the off-brand Collingwood. Not for the first time, he missed the lovely old ladies and private school boys in the Melbourne cheer squad and the MCC section. He thought of all the older ladies that were so nice to him through all those years and gave him hugs at training. He'd give anything to be back there.

  
They finished the warm up lap and started stretches. He sat near Riley Grundy, who he didn't know very well but seemed cool. All the boys in the senior team were too intimidating especially since no one had said a word to him since he'd been freed from the basement. Even Ken Hinkley barely noticed him.

  
Thankfully he was only training with about 10 others, as per covid instructions. They started off with a few basic drills and then had a 5v5 practice game and finished with some goalkicking practice. Jack took most of his set shots from the boundary line, trying to impress the coaches and other players with his accuracy. He was very accurate. Hardly ever missed, but he didn't like bragging too much. He'd been watching Robbie Gray ever since he got to the Port Adelaide football club and trying to learn his tricks. Sadly no one applauded or even glanced his way as he nailed every set shot, and then it was time to go inside.

  
The other boys all headed inside for recovery, but Jack stayed out to help the coaches and trainers pick up all the cones and balls. Each one had to be sanitised before they got packed away so Jack was happy to help with that.  
"So," he said to Ken, as they were sanitising footballs, "Am I playing this week?" He tried to sound jovial. He asked the same question every week, maybe he needed a different tactic.

  
Ken blinked and shook his head. "What?" he said, and looked at Jack. "Oh, uh, we're just going unchanged this week."

  
Typical answer. Jack nodded. "I play well against Collingwood," he said, brightly, "Remember two years ago, I dominated that boy from Sandy. Number 28."

  
"I'm sure you did, kid," Ken replied, absent-mindedly, polishing the football with a sanitising wipe.

"I hear Clurey---" Jack started to say, but Ken cut him off. "Look, we've got a replacement for Tom, thank you, you're not needed." Ken turned away to get more footballs that were littered across the oval.

  
That hurt. Even though he still had a year on his contract, it hurt. Luckily the rest of the coaches had gathered up the last of the cones and footballs, because Jack ran inside for the bathrooms to have his usual post-training cry.


	3. Chapter 3

The Port Adelaide players were all in the gym, spread out in two's and three's as they lifted weights and spotted each other. Jack Watts didn't have anyone to spot him so he sat on a bench on his own and did some bicep curls with the dumbbells. He liked the lightest ones, like 1 kg and 2 kg, much easier to use. He had been sitting there, head down, for a few minutes when he felt a warm presence sit next to him. Jack's heart leapt (did he have a friend after all?) but when he glanced up, it was just the Cash Cow.

"Hey Cashy," Jack said, and then paused his weights and looked the Cash Cow in the eye. "Can I call you Cashy?"

The Cash Cow made a shrugging gesture and nodded vigorously. Jack took it as a yes. Cash Cow was a steady presence for Jack as he did his bicep curls, and then Jack moved to the bench press with the Cash Cow spotting him. They were a good team, so they swapped places and Jack did the spotting. After they had finished, wiping down the gym equipment with wipes and clean towels, they headed into the lunch room and found a spare spot on the couches by the wall.

As they sat down, the Cash Cow reached into the folds of his fur and pulled out a newspaper article. He handed it straight to Jack, eyes wide, looking on expectantly.

Jack was confused but read the article from the Adelaide Times. The headline said "RENOWNED SCIENTIST FOUND IN BASEMENT" and the article went on in detail about an astrophysicist at The University of Adelaide, in his late forties, had been missing for several days and turned up in his boss' basement. There was no mention of how, why, or what, only an explanation that the man was still traumatised from the incident and his boss had no idea that his world-famous astrophysicist had been in the basement all that time. There was a black and white photo of a scruffy-haired man with a bushy beard and a dazed look on his face. That was it.

"What the..." Jack muttered, "Was there an article like this of me?" He never thought to check the newspaper after he was freed. Jack already had a habit of never reading newspapers after dealing with all the criticism he had copped over the years by the football media.

The Cash Cow shook his head and shrugged. He reached into his fur again, pulled out a blank sheet of paper and a pen, and scrawled "let's get to the bottom of this" and handed it to Jack.

"Okaaaay," Jack said, taking the note from the Cash Cow uncertainly. "But where do we start?"

The cash cow put a hand on Jack's shoulder and looked him in the eye, confidently, and nodded. Jack understood this to mean "we're a team, we can do this together". Jack nodded back. They could do this.   
They will find the culprits behind the kidnappings.


	4. Chapter 4

"It's funny that the kidnapping victims are all found in their respective boss' basement," Jack mused, as he drove through the streets of Adelaide, "like what next? An Amazon worker found in Jeff Bezos' basement?"

The Cash Cow snorted with laughter, shaking his head. He was sitting in the passenger seat, holding a huge map and directing Jack on where to go. Jack still had no clue how to navigate around Adelaide, having grown up his whole life in Melbourne.

"I bet Jeff Bezos' basement would be really fancy," Jack added, "It wouldn't even be traumatic, there'd be plush carpet to sleep on and a TV and heaps of books to read. Ken's basement was just mouldy floorboards and random bits of junk. I don't even think he knows what's under his house."

The Cash cow pointed left and Jack flicked on his left indicator and turned left.

"Do you reckon it's the same kidnapper as what happened down in Geelong?" Jack mused, "I heard Chris Scott was locked in his basement for the first part of the season. Selwood had to captain coach the team."

Jack glanced over at the Cash Cow who was shrugging, still focused on the map.

They arrived at the University of Adelaide moments later, and found a park in between a motorbike and a BMW. 

"Come on Cashy," Jack said, as they hopped out of the car, "Let's go talk to an astrophysicist."

Jack and the Cash Cow found the office of Phillip Williams easy enough. He was on the second floor close to the elevators. They stood outside the door.

"Are we too early? What if we're too early?" Jack worried, hand poised to knock on the door.

The Cash Cow pointed to his watch which read 11:15, the exact time they'd booked an appointment for. Phillip had said he had lectures at 9am-11am and then 12pm-4pm so it was only free time all day.

Jack knocked on the door and they heard a soft "come in". They entered the office and a girl scurried out, clutching her books to her chest, blushing slightly. Jack could see why. Phillip was very handsome, he had that salt and pepper hair look that all the male celebrities were nailing these days. 

"Hello, Jack," Phillip said, "Please take a seat."

There was only one seat in front of Phillip's desk so Jack sat in it and Cash Cow perched on the arm.

"So, you said in your email that you also were kidnapped and found in your boss' basement?" Phillip asked.

Jack nodded, unable to form words.

"And you want to ask of my experiences and hope I remembered something of the kidnappers?" Phillip enquired.

Jack and the Cash Cow both nodded vigorously.

"Well..." Phillip said, "I remember walking to my car one night after work... and then nothing. Woke up in that basement, tape over my mouth."

Jack felt crestfallen. He didn't know what questions to ask so he looked at the Cash Cow, hope in his eyes that the Cash Cow will know what to do.

The Cash Cow grabbed paper and a pen off of Phillip's desk, scribbled a note, and flashed the paper at Phillip. Phillip said "down the hall, on your left" and the Cash Cow was out the door in a flash. 

Jack saw the note and it just read "Toilet?" Jack had the length of a toilet break to think about his plan of action for this investigation.


	5. Chapter 5

Jack Watts lay on the floor of his one-bedroom apartment, wearing only a old ratty T-shirt and no pants. He heard a key in the front door, it opened and footsteps came closer to where he was lying. He knew who it was, he's only given a key to one person.

"Hey," Jack said, gazing up at a cow that walks on its two feet.

The Cash Cow grunted and tried pulling Jack to his feet.

"Don't bother," Jack said, trying to resist, "It's been a week, I quit my job, and we're still no closer to finding out who my kidnappers are."

The Cash Cow pulled Jack into a sitting position and brushed the day-old crumbs and bits of spaghetti off his T-shirt. Jack glanced down and was able to see Jesse Hogan's smiling face clearly. He always loved this T-shirt, so grateful the Melbourne Football Club merch team made it for him in an adult size.

"We spoke to Phillip, he knows nothing," Jack grumbled, as the Cash Cow plopped down next to him.

The Cash Cow gave Jack a Look.

"Who else do we talk to? What else can we do?" Jack asked.

The Cash Cow tilted his head and glanced out the window where Jack's car glistened in the morning sunlight, with a dint in the bonnet.

"I was driving back from the supermarket and I went down the street where I was kidnapped," Jack explained, "I'd never been back there since... since it happened." Jack gulped and the Cash Cow put his hand on Jack's knee. "All I remember was the huge gum tree on the nature strip... opposite Charlie Dixon's house where i'd been at his party... and I went outside.... wondering how to get back home.... Anyway, so today, I went down Charlie's street and there was the gum tree. And the van was right there in front of it."

The Cash Cow was nodding, his hand a comforting presence on Jack's knee.

"And I just wasn't thinking," Jack said, "I hit the van. With my car. I just hit it. And it moved and hit the car in front and oh my god... I panicked and sped off." Jack put his head in his hands, crying. "I can't ever leave the house again."

The Cash Cow was shaking his head vigorously and held both his hands on Jack's head, forcing it up. Forcing him to look the Cash Cow in the eyes.

"I'm so sorry," Jack blubbered.

And the Cash Cow slapped Jack once, twice, on the face. Shook his head again. 

The Cash Cow stood up and hauled Jack to his feet. After a lengthy embrace, the Cash Cow went over to the tiny kitchenette and started making dinner. Jack stood there watching, eventually rousing himself enough to chop carrots.

While the stew was cooking, the Cash Cow scrawled a note on some paper towel. It read: "we're in this together and we'll find them". Jack smiled when he read it, and lent his head on the Cash Cow's shoulder.

"Thanks, Cashy," Jack mumbled.

The Cash Cow scrawled another note, and handed it to Jack with a smile. 

Jack read "do we add Charlie Dixon to the suspect list?" which made Jack burst out laughing. "Well, he is super scary," Jack agreed, "That's one thing I won't miss about AFL footy, playing on him during training sessions."


End file.
